Equinox
by Rampant Poultry
Summary: Well, at least they didn't hate each other forever. Sara, Neithardt. Vaguely set during CS1.


There probably had been worse first meetings in the history of the world.

 _Probably._

Instructor Neithardt surveyed the woman in front of him with a critical eye. Most men would find her beautiful, with her perfect build and striking features, most notably a pair of razor sharp amber eyes, but he saw only the imperfections:

A neckline just a bit too low to be appropriate for an instructor–

Hair just a shade too pink to be natural–

And worst of all, a cocky swagger and a devil-may-care grin that perfectly _pissed him off._

As expected of an ex-bracer. She hadn't even said a word and she was already infuriating.

He'd been against hiring her from the very beginning. So far, he was being proven correct.

"You are Instructor Valestein, I assume," Neithardt ground out through his irritation. "Welcometo Thors Military Academy. I am Major Neithardt of the 4th Armored Division, and an instructor here. When you are ready, I am to be your guide."

"Heya," the woman said. She reached out to shake his hand. When Neithardt didn't move, she leaned forward, grabbed his hand, and shook it anyways. The jaunty grin she shot him while she did so only annoyed him further. "I'm Sara Valestein, but sounds like you know that already."

He yanked his hand away, ignoring the way one of her eyebrows rose in amusement. "As I'm sure Principal Vandyck has informed you, you will be staying in the Class VII dorms as their instructor. Do you have bags or baggage you would like me to carry for you?"

"Nah. My stuff's coming later and I can deal with it. Show me around, though? I've been sitting for way too long."

This _infuriating_ – "if you would like a tour of the campus, Principal Vandyck will be more than able to provide–"

"Aaah, forget the campus, I can check it out later. Show me around town! What's good here? Anywhere a girl can grab a drink or two?"

Or ten. He'd seen the file. "My responsibilities do not include–"

"Nope, none of that. Less talking, more walking. Let's go!"

::-::-::

Principal Vandyck knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sara Valestein was a brilliant woman. Perfect physical condition, mastery of multiple schools of orbal artes, and a tactical mind honed by dozens of battles combined to make her one of the deadliest individuals on the planet. Most dangerous of all, however, and the reason he had tried so hard to recruit her, was her natural aptitude with people. She had an inherent talent for manipulating, negotiating, and inspiring that he rarely saw.

Unfortunately, she was currently putting every bit of her formidable intellect to annoying his most disciplined subordinate. This, he had to admit, had been a distinct possibility.

What he _hadn't_ expected was that Instructor Neithardt would manage to return the favor.

The screech of heated arguing signaled the coming storm, and when his door burst open and two livid instructors marched in, Principal Vandyck let out a resigned sigh.

Neithardt got the first word in. "Principal," he bellowed, a booming bass that reverberated off the office walls. "This woman is completely unfit for her position. She is a disgrace to herself and this institution. I beg of you, fire her immediately!"

"Congratulations, Principal," Sara cut in. "You actually managed to hire a brick wall for an instructor. How did you teach it to talk?"

"And what would a harpy know of walls, you vile woman?"

"Oooh, you even armed it with a set of generic insults! What a feat."

"I'm pleased to see the two of you getting along splendidly," Vandyck commented. "Kindly remember you are both under my employment, and I would appreciate it if you conduct yourselves as such. _Both_ of you."

Two mouths snapped shut, only to be replaced by venomous glares.

Vandyck sighed. Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea.

::-::-::

By the first day of class, nothing had improved. Open fights had given way to passive aggressive quips at every opportunity.

"Take care that your blatant disregard for order does not corrupt your class, Instructor Valestein. I suspect you have much more to learn from them that they do from you."

"And take care when you sit down, Instructor Neithardt, cuz you wouldn't want to shove that stick any further up your–"

"That's _quite_ enough, you two," Principal Vandyck snapped, patience worn thin by the ceaseless bickering. "Go to your classes. I'll be sure to have a word with _both_ of you later."

When they had left and blissful silence was once more ushered into his office, Vandyck could only breathe a sigh of relief.

::-::-::

"I pity you, class VII. Your instructor is a travesty of an educator. Remember that sexual advances towards students should be immediately reported."

::-::-::

"Good luck with Instructor Neithardt, class. Just remember that barking is the only thing he's good at."

::-::-::

"No, I will not fire either of you. Kindly return to your duties."

::-::-::

"Perhaps we should put your class on payroll, Instructor Valestein. They seem to do more of your work than you do."

::-::-::

"Perhaps you should return to the military, Major Neithardt. Making your own decisions seems to be well beyond your capabilities."

::-::-::

Nothing ever improved.

::-::-::

Until one day–

It did.

And on that one day–

A young woman sat alone at a bar, one glass of strong liquor in her hand, another at an empty seat beside her.

And a hardened young man stepped into the bar, purely on a whim. He rarely drank, but for whatever reason, on this day, he did.

::-::-::

Sara swirled the amber liquor in her glass once, twice, thrice. She lifted it halfway to her lips, then set it down. Another swirl, then another, with nothing from her but a pensive gaze.

When a shadow fell across her drink, she looked up, and came face to face with her blond haired arch nemesis.

Or whatever he was. Arch nemesis might be a bit of an exaggeration. Maybe 'prime irritant?'

"Drowning your many sorrows so early in the day, Instructor Valestein?" Neithardt scoffed. "How shameful."

"Not today, Neithardt," Sara sighed, before returning to staring morosely at the drink in her hand. "Please. Tomorrow, fine, whatever. But right now, I'm not up for it."

Although she missed it, Neithardt twitched in surprise. She had never been anything but cocky, but right now, she sounded almost… vulnerable. Or at least as vulnerable as Sara Valestein could be.

That's when his eyes fell on the drink at an empty seat beside her, and all thoughts of harassing her immediately fell away. A military man, after all, would never disrespect the dead. Nor those who mourned them.

"Bartender," he called. "Bring me two of whatever she," he gestured towards Sara, "is having."

When the drinks came, he planted one down, leaving a quiet pair of drinks at the empty seat. Sara glanced at him in surprise.

"Was it a man or a woman?" Neithardt asked.

"A man." She didn't need any further clarification. Both of them knew what he meant.

"He must have been of truly exceptional character."

She scoffed. "How would you know? You never even met him. I doubt you have any idea who he is."

The faintest of grins pulled at Neithardt's lips. "I don't need to. He put up with you. How could he be anything but exceptional?"

"Can it, Neithardt." Despite her words, there was a smile in Sara's voice, and when the other instructor raised his glass, she clinked hers against it.

::-::-::

The next time the two instructors met with him, Vandyck nearly called his doctor. He _must_ be delusional. It almost looked like they tolerated each other.

::-::-::

"If nothing else, class, Major Neithardt is a competent man. Follow his instructions and you'll be safe."

::-::-::

"Instructor Valestein is a remarkable fighter. Remember your training, guard each other, and stay out of her way. We will not allow the railway guns will not fire again."

::-::-::

The next time the two instructors spoke to each other, this time completely without venom, the boys of Class VII almost passed out from shock. The girls, of course, had seen it coming a mile away, except for a tiny ex-jager, who never cared enough for it to bother her. Or so she would claim.

::-::-::

A sharp knock on her door on one of her few free days snapped Sara from sleep to alertness in a fraction of a second, her ex-bracer reflexes still razor sharp. She rose quickly, expecting to find that Rean had once again decided to spend some time with her. Goodness knows what went on in that boy's head.

Instead, the intimidating frame of Instructor Neithardt filled her door frame like an awkward statue. She almost laughed, but a quiet inner voice restrained her.

"Well, this is a surprise," is what she eventually settled on.

"May I come in?" The other instructor asked, voice a little too stiff to be considered comfortable.

"Come on in," Sara made an exaggerated sweep as Neithardt entered. "So to what do I owe this visit? An inspection?"

"One that you would fail," Neithardt quipped with a meaningful nod towards the beer bottles stacked by her bed. "But no. I came to give you this."

Sara took the slip of paper he held towards her, ignoring the garishly bright words and numbers sprawled about it like confetti. "What's this? A...coupon?"

"An invitation, if you would. The bar has a sale this weekend and, well. I suppose it's… sad, that you drink alone. No one should have to."

She blinked in surprise. "Well that's surprisingly sweet of you. What's the catch?" She glared at him. "This isn't a trick, is it? You gonna dump me once I'm committed?"

When Neithardt didn't respond for a long moment, Sara suppressed a brief flash of panic. When he finally spoke, his words were tightly controlled. "Do you truly think so little of me? Am I that type of man to you? If you seek to offend me, Sara, congratulations, you have finally succeeded."

"I… no. I'm sorry," Sara backpedaled, mind reeling. What was _wrong_ with him today? "You might be a pain in the ass, but you still wouldn't do that. You're… I hate to say it, but I guess you're ok. Sometimes."

Neithardt snorted. "Hmph. As long as we're clear on that, I'm willing to admit your other grievances with me may carry some weight."

"Ok, no, seriously, what's come over you? First you call me Sara, now admitting you have faults? Are you sick or something?"

Neithardt froze, eyes wide, before he recovered with a cough. "Your ears betray you. I did no such thing, Instructor Valestein."

"Aaand back to square one. Boo. I liked Sara more," she grumbled. She strode towards the door, yanking on Neithardt's sleeve as she went.

"What– I– what are you doing?"

"Come on! You went to all the trouble of inviting me, so we might as well use your coupon!"

"Let me go," Neithardt protested. "You are welcome to lead the way, but kindly release me first!"

"Nope, none of that. Less talking, more walking. Let's go!"

::-::-::

"Instructor," Alissa called out, after weeks of a cordial relationship between their two teachers finally proved to be too _weird_ for Class VII to handle. "What happened to you and Instructor Neithardt?"

"What do you mean?" Sara responded with a too-innocent grin. It fooled no one.

"You– you guys _get along_ now!"

"It's definitely not what we used to see," Rean chimed in.

Sara shrugged. "I have no idea what you guys are talking about. We always got along."

If a deadpan glare could physically manifest, Class VII would have managed it.

::-::-::

 _fin._

 **A/N** :

Does Neithardt seriously not have a listed first name?

Obviously, I exaggerated their relationship and might have messed a little with canon timeline. Kinda fuzzy on the order of events.

I haven't finished CS II, so no idea if I break canon from there.

Hope you enjoyed it anyways. Thanks for reading. Leave a review, if you would be so kind.


End file.
